No more
by Shrike
Summary: One-shot. WW2 aftermath and a brief encounter between Ludwig and Roderich.


**NO MORE**

A lace-sleeved hand tentatively rang the doorbell, then quickly pulled back at the shrill noise as if startled by its own action. He had been standing in front of the gate long before setting a foot on a fine graveled path that led to doorstep through neatly mowed garden. The wind was picking up near the end of day, dusk already crawling along hills at the edge of horizon. Not a soul in sight.

The door stood solid in its frame long enough for the unannounced guest to lose his determination and start turning back. A voice that addressed him just as he started climbing down the stairs was flat and deep.

"I didn't expect to see you here, Roderich."

The dark-haired man swiftly turned, widening eyes betraying his usual aloof demeanor. He had nowhere to run, nowhere to hide. Clearing his throat, Roderich straightened up and defiantly stared back at Germany through his thin-rimmed glasses.

"I was in the neighborhood and decided to drop by. Are you not going to invite me in, have you no manners?"

"I didn't expect to see you here ever again, Roderich."

His eyes were as flat as his voice and Roderich could read neither. He didn't dare to look in too deep, fearing what might lie there. After the war was over and culprits trialed and punished, the losing side seemed to disappear from sight of victorious nations of the new world order. They were too busy with their own affairs, conducted in well lit, bustling cities far from this desolate place.

Roderich half-shrugged, half-shuddered, "No one has seen you for so long, I was starting to get worried. The only time you show up at gatherings is when you deliver reparation money."

The tall blonde man silently regarded his visitor, words seeming difficult for him to utter like a sheer weight of their existence in his throat hurt.

"You forsake me. Me, and my brother." his voice hoarse and grave, his eyes involuntary gazing over Roderich's shoulder, across the street and at the gray wall that stood between his and the neighboring house. Roderich followed their course and nodded in comprehension.

"So that's where he lives. I heard you two were separated and forbidden to…" he broke off at the sight of Ludwig's eyes which have obtained a characteristic tint. Roderich knew that shine very well, has seen it many times under black rims of SS hats.

"Please", Roderich's mouth uttered before he knew what he was saying, "don't be mad."

"Go away."

"I came to see you."

"Go away."

The dark-haired man shivered in a sudden gust of wind, feeling the darkness falling heavily between them. "Please, I had to think about the best interest of my people." he whispered, unsure whether Ludwig will make out the words at all.

"You said the same when you fell in league with us."

"And I meant it!" Roderich's voice pleaded against his will, "I just couldn't stay with that madman Gilbert around! He's so vulgar." Austria looked away, blushed.

"You didn't seem to mind while we were winning." Germany leaned against the door, coldly judging the man in front of him. There was a serrated bitterness to his voice, accusing and sorrowful at the same time. "Gilbert may be volatile and grandiose, but at least he is no traitor."

"Ludwig…" violet-shaded eyes looked up at the blonde, wide and shimmering, "There was nothing I could do to make things better, all I could is keep my head down until dust settled. Associating with you near the end would only bring unnecessary suffering for my people."

He extended a pale hand and stopped a few inches short from Germany's chest. He didn't dare touch him although he felt the pull, the warmth of Ludwig's body. "I never thought they would hurt you so much. "he whispered.

Roderich's hand was a soft and delicate hand of an aristocrat accustomed to dancing across piano keys and weaving clandestine court intrigues. Ludwig clenched a callous-knuckled fist at his side, feeling hardened blisters of his palm against his worn nails. Something inside him ebbed and flowed, crumbling away the unexpressive façade. His eyes suddenly flashed and he roughly grabbed the extended fingers, enjoying in newly budded terror on Austria's face.

"Nothing they did hurt as much as what you did. You were like a brother to me, one of my own." he stared down in the face he knew so well, whose softness he craved, whose lips quenched his desire so many times. He shook the hand he held to shake off unwanted memories, feeling the sheer raw power he had over Roderich. Crushing him now would be the sweetest and the hardest thing to do.

Austria gaped at the outburst, too startled to feel afraid. Roderich then managed a feeble smile, sensing that he broke through Germany's cultivated defenses, for better or for worse.

"I have never stopped thinking about you, Ludwig." one tear slid down the immaculate skin of his cheek, "Never could forgive myself. It was all one huge, stupid mistake, the whole damn war."

"Don't I know it." Germany growled through teeth, shifting his gaze to the blank wall in front of his house that seemed to stare right back at him. Was it a trick of an eye or did a shadow move behind those thick gray curtains in the house across?

Roderich snatched a glimpse behind Ludwig's back into the warm interior filled with things well known and long lost to him; the sofa they shared, the porcelain tea set, the bed.

"I see you kept the old photos." Roderich's melancholic smile widened, feeling Germany flinch and daring to hope. "Weren't those the best of times, all of us brewing beer and dreaming of one day becoming a name on the map of Europe. Too bad we chose to do it the wrong way."

Ludwig closed his eyes, "Why did you come here, could you not leave me to lick my wounds in peace?" It was a rhetoric question. He feared this moment will come and he feared his own reaction to it. Whatever he did, had to be wrong.

A gentle caress ventured across his face and down his neck and Ludwig kept his eyes shut just for a moment longer, standing perfectly still, allowing himself indulgence in tenderness he had been denied for years. Then, without a warning, his grip on Austria's other hand tightened. He knew the crushing force of his laborer's hand must have aggravated the aristocrat, but he didn't hear more than a sigh from him.

"Are you going to call this forceful union too, Roderich?"

"No." his quiet voice was clear in the night, "This is my total, willing surrender to you."

Lips found lips despite the darkness and the painful clench became a starved embrace. Roderich's lips were tender, soothing and familiar like a warm glow of hearth, like home.

In the house across the street, the light went out.

"_Brother, forgive me."_

THE END


End file.
